I Can't Sleep
by RobotKat
Summary: Shotaro stays over at Kenji's place. Set in Tetsujin 28 episode 19, based on a Pixiv user's comic.


AN: This was inspired by a three-page manga by Pixiv user Tonic (user ID 820959). Her artwork is lovely and the piece I'm talking of had the ID 21211413~!

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"All right, kid…this is the first time I've ever had to babysit, so here's the rules." Kenji lay back on his pillow, arms folded behind his head. "No peeing the bed. Kick me in your sleep, you wake up in the hall. You talk or shout in your sleep, and I reserve every right to throw you out the window."

Shotaro took a bit of offense to being 'babysat'. But he said, "Mr. Murasame, I don't do any of those."

"Really?" Kenji didn't turn, clearly sceptical. "When you grow up with two brothers, you—"

"No, really, I'm really quiet." Shotaro squirmed under the heavy comforter of his futon, eyes big and soft, like a frightened gopher retreating into its den. He still found it bewildering to consider that he was staying the night at the house of a man who'd previously wanted vengeance on him. "The Chief once stayed overnight when I had a flu, and I was so quiet he thought I was dead."

Kenji found himself grimacing, shifting to look at the boy. "Great bedtime topic."

"Mr. Murasame," Shotaro said carefully. "Please don't think that I want to stay here more than you want me to."

There came a round of bitter silence in the room, with only the faint rustling of Shotaro's comforter to paint over the mood. Kenji abruptly began lighting a cigarette, deciding that it was the only way he knew how to break the pause.

"Is there anything you need before going to bed? Water, maybe?" He'd almost missed having to run through a routine with Ryu and Tatsu every other night.

Shotaro's voice was faint, apprehensive even. "Could you tell me a story?"

"What kind?" Kenji asked, as a wisp of cigarette smoke escaped his lips.

"Maybe a true crime story. I love those kinds of things."

"Kid, the stories I've got could put my neighbours in jail."

"Maybe something spooky?"

Kenji's eyes darted over to assess Shotaro's condition, finding his face curious but pleasant. Kenji shrugged a little. "You sure?"

"Definitely."

"Well, there's this one lady you might see on the streets…"

About ten minutes later, Kenji was on his third cigarette and things had gone to hell. The older man lay contentedly on his stomach, while Shotaro was barely visible under a protective cocoon of blankets.

"But…" Shotaro held onto his pillow, hoping his nervousness wasn't too evident. "…What if you see her on the way home?"

"The Kuchisake Woman will be wearing a cloth over her mouth…she usually watches you for a bit, then comes up and asks you, 'Am I pretty?'" Kenji performed the voice with an overblown soprano, which he found funny, but left Shotaro disturbed by the sudden change in pitch. "If you say no, she strangles you to death. You say yes, she takes the cloth from her mouth and asks you again."

Kenji turned, dragging a finger across his cheeks. "And if you remember, she's got these cuts on her face like—"

"I…I remember," Shotaro stammered.

"If you say no, she cuts your face up so you look like hers. If you say yes, she waits until you get home, and then she does it."

"B-But how can I get out of it?"

"There's two ways. Simply give her hard candy, and she'll happily take it and leave. Or…" Kenji looked to the ceiling, pretending to have lost a thought. "Or, there was something else you could say. I don't remember."

"What are you supposed to say?!" Shrieked a now exasperated Shotaro, sitting up abruptly. Someone in the apartment below them thudded the ceiling – Kenji's floor – with a broom in response; Shotaro squirmed under his blankets in embarrassment.

"Ah, I'll tell you in the morning." Kenji tapped his cigarette's ashes into the worn little tray near his futon. "I'll probably have it by then."

Shotaro snuggled into his futon, back to Kenji. "Well, at least I know how to stop her with hard candy…"

"I don't have any hard candy in my apartment," he drawled through a yawn.

Shotaro winced. "Mr. Murasame, you're a jerk."

•••

After completing an intricate process of analyzing everything within view in the apartment, Shotaro was able to drift into a decent round of slumber. It lasted maybe three hours.

Somebody out on the street, maybe returning from a pub, smashed a bottle against the ground, an act that sent a cold, hollow shatter through the night. Shotaro flung himself up into a seated position, arms stiff at his sides in preparation for close combat.

There was only silence, with some distorted drunken cheers echoing through the gap in the window. Shotaro deeply loathed its existence for a moment before worming back under the futon.

He took a moment to try and see Kenji's face, hoping the Kuchisake Woman hadn't come in and mangled him while Shotaro slept. It was almost soothing to see the older man drooling all over his pillow, his snoring rhythmic enough for it to be almost pacifying.

Shotaro looked at him for a moment, from a porthole in his comforter hiding spot. "Mister…Mr. Murasa…"

Someone hooted out on the street. Shotaro shuddered.

"Mr. Murasame? Mr. Murasame?"

Kenji's snoring faded off into harsh breathing, followed by a drowsy, "Nnnwhhaa?"

He sat up slowly, emerging from the covers, hair breaking from its pompadour in thick splayed-out locks. He could barely open his eyes, or at least avoided doing so.

"What is it, Shotaro…? It's two in the morning…"

"Ah…hold on, didn't you hear all those noises outside?"

"The Mitsumotos must be having another party…" Kenji slid yet another cigarette into his mouth. "…They always make a racket when everybody leaves…"

"Well, uh…" Shotaro looked at the window, knowing he'd break under Kenji's near-comatose gaze. "…What are the odds of the Kuchisake Woman breaking into your apartment, but making a lot of noise in the process?"

"…I'd say they're slim…?"

"I…I see. H-how can you sleep with all this noise?"

Kenji sat there, silent for a moment, his body drowsily swaying. "…Because I don't let easily-woken kids hang out with me…"

"…A-ah."

Kenji's cigarette fell limply from his lips and disappeared beneath his blankets.

"…Shotaro, can I go back to sleep…?"

"Y-yes! Ah, sorry, I shouldn't keep you. I'll get back to sleep too."

But Kenji was already out again, comforter half on with the rest of it pulled into a contorted hug, the faintest snore emitting from him. With a bit of a tired shrug, Shotaro slid back into his futon until the only noise he could hear was his own soft breathing.

He eased his futon closer to Kenji's until the blanket folded against the older man's back. He figured that he'd rather be locked in a room of spiders than trust Kenji with his life, but there was something comforting about having him around. Something like an estranged older brother. Shotaro nuzzled against a lump of blankets between him and Kenji's bag and felt himself drift on towards sleep.

Fin


End file.
